


Bits and Pieces

by kathiann, superwoman1015 (kathiann)



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Drabble Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:23:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathiann/pseuds/kathiann, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathiann/pseuds/superwoman1015
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of unrelated one shots and drabbles. Most recent, two big drabbles (more than 100 words, less than 500 words) that I found languishing on a flash drive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Words Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> This is intended to be a collection of unrelated on-shots and drabbles for The Mentalist. First up, a perfect (100 word) drabble in response to the March Paint it Red challenge "All the Words Unspoken".

She placed a thin letter on the grave and held it in place with a small smooth stone. The edges fluttered in the wind and she knew that it would fly away sooner, rather than later, but she didn't care. She stood slowly, brushing fresh cut grass off the flat gray stone marker with her foot, blinking back hot tears. It had ended too soon. There were so many things left unsaid, so many things that she wanted to say. Now it was too late. The letter was all she had. A final note of all the words left unsaid.


	2. Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know what I was going to add to this story, but I had music on while I was (not) doing homework and a string version of George Gershwin's Embraceable You came on and I thought of weddings and since it's easier to type out 100 words that 1000, I came up with this. A 100 word drabble.

She didn't feel old very often, but she did today. The ceremony had been lovely. The bride had worn a dress that probably cost more than her rent for a year, and the groom had looked so in love that she was certain that he had no idea what was going on at all. Her oldest nephew getting married. How was it that her brother had ended up so normal when she and Tommy had ended up so messed up? But none of that mattered today. Today was about celebration and family and feeling, just for a little while, old.


	3. Mrs. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While cleaning out my flash drive full of "important" files I came across a folder of old "stuff" that had berried in it an old file of half started and half thought out fic ideas. This is one of them. An episode tag to the season one ep "Mrs. Red". Not quite a traditional 100 word drabble, this one is 207. TO set the scene, Rigsby and Van Pelt are doing surveillance on a woman that they think is a murderer. As I recall, she wasn't actually. In fact, if memory serves, she's a cougar that Rigsby ends up going out with, hence Van Pelt's less than nice opinion of her. But that is simply going off memory. I could totally have the wrong episode, though I don't think I do. ENJOY!

Rigsby is eating a salad. He's sitting next to me in the car and he's eating a salad. I didn't buy it for him, he bought it for himself. We are sitting in the car in the parking lot at the marina, watching that woman, and he's eating a salad.

Maybe it's nothing; maybe he's just trying to eat health after his poor state of health. I'm staring at him, I have to stop staring at him. Say something, say something. The case, right that's why we're here.

"What is she doing?" Stupid question, obviously she's putting on her makeup, but Rigsby won't know that, so it's a valid question, right?

"I don't know, maybe she likes the water." He's shoveling salad into his mouth. I've only seen him do that with things that could clog your arteries if you spent too much time outside in the winter in Alaska. And here he was eating a salad without a cream based dressing. This was odd. Maybe I'm starting to wear off on him. Or he's just concerned about his health. Or, is it possible for mind control aliens to come and tell you what to eat instead of how to take over the world?


	4. Cocaine-Jimi Hendrix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fic from the recesses of my flash drive. This was, I think, meant to me the first of a 10 Ipod challenge fic. For some reason this was the only one in the file...not sure what happened to the other nine, if there ever was another nine. Anyway, based on and named for the Ji,i Hendrix song "Cocaine", 140 words

It was like some scene out of a cheesy movie. Cho was standing on the corner, trying his best to look like a lowlife thug strung out on whatever was handy and cheep, and Van Pelt was walking up and down the street offering her services to any paying customer who would come along. Really they were looking for a hooker killer, but it was still funny. At least it was to Jane. It wasn't to Lisbon who had broken her arm taking down their last 'John' that had taken Van Pelt up on her offer yesterday night. She was stuck at her desk, mandated medical leave. For at lest another two weeks she was on desk duty. So she was watching the team from a tiny computer screen in her office and snapping every time she heard Jane laugh.


	5. Jack and the Bean Stock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This lovely little piece of silly/crack fic is brought to you by the end of school and a conversation on facebook that started with the question "Why didn't they just eat the cow in Jack and the Bean Stock" I have made The Mentalist Team my friends. Because it is much more fun this way :)

"Do you know what I wonder?" Rigsby asked leaning back in in his desk chair and twisting side to side slightly.

"No," Cho said, not looking up from the open file on his desk.

Ignoring him, Rigsby spoke again. "In Jack and the Bean Stock, why didn't they just eat the cow when it had stopped giving milk?"

"Wouldn't have been much of a story." Cho said, still not looking up.

"It could still work. They eat the cow then Jack foes searching or food. Maybe he's begging for food, maybe he steals it. We know he's a thief." Rigsby clearly wasn't going to let go of his idea.

"It was an old cow. The mean was probably too tough to eat." Jane poke from his spot on the couch, swinging his feet to the ground and sitting up, interested in where the conversation was going.

"Ok, sure, but if you cook it long enough, or make sausage..." Rigsby let the thought linger, clearly not sure where to go from there.

"Not everyone has the skill to butcher an animal as large as a cow. Not to mention that they probably wouldn't be able to eat it before it went bad." Cho said, finally looking up from his work.

"Ok, ok. But I still think if they were that desperate that they could manage it somehow."

"Maybe," Van Pelt said, speaking for the first time, "they couldn't eat the cow because it was the reincarnation of Jack's grandmother. It wouldn't be right to eat her."

"Yeah, but-" Wayne started before being cut off by Lisbon who had come out of her office half way though Van Pelt's suggestion.

"It's a fairy tale! For crying out loud. British people in the 1700's didn't believe in reincarnation. It's silly story for kids. Now get back to work."

Jane chuckled slightly as he laid back down on his couch. Cho shook his head an went back to his file. Van Pelt watched Lisbon walk back towards her office before smiling at Rigsby and returning her gaze to the computer screen in front of her.

Rigsby still sat in his chair, staring off into space and thinking. Could the cow have been the Grandmother? It would make sense why they were so attached to it. Maybe the guy who gave Jack the beans promised to take care of the cow and not eat it...

"Rigsby!" Lisbon's voice from her office door made him jump. "Stop thinking about it and get back to work!"

"Yes, Boss," he mumbled turning his attention to the discarded stack of files on his desk. Next to him Cho smirked.


	6. I Beg Your Pardon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Mentalist Big Bang Vent Drabble Tag. Prompt supplied by little_firestar "the butler did it". Just a nice piece of fluff.

They stood in front of a rather opulent house in the middle of the California desert, cursing the murder that brought them to this God forsaken piece of dry burning earth.

"Why is it always in the middle of the summer that we get called to the desert?" Rigsby asked, stepping close to Cho and trying to keep his voice low so that no one else would hear him. It didn't work.

"Murderers aren't usually concerned with your comfort levels, Rigsby. Lets get inside and see what's going on." Lisbon snapped, clearly not an happier about being on this case than Rigsby was.

They were greeted at the door not by the local sheriff as was expected, but by a man dressed in a rather formal looking suite and tie. The man looked not unlike Tim Curry in the 80's movie "Clue".

"Hello," the man said with a faint British accent, "I am John Bishop, the butler, if you would like to follow me I can show you to the room with the body."

Not waiting for an answer John Bishop turned and walked into the house. The dim coolness of the inside of the mansion, for lack of a better word, was a welcome respite from the heat and glare of the outside. It took a few minutes for the team to adjust to the drastic difference and follow the butler.

When they arrived at what would probably be called a sitting room, the team saw right away the body that was sprawled in front of a cold and disused fireplace, the back of the head bashed in with what was probably the fireplace poker left hastily next to the body.

Most of the team listened as the sheriff explained how they had been called to the house and who the victim was, the son of the owner of the house, currently in Europe for the summer. Jane, being his normal self, was not listening so much as wandering around the room picking up on the little details that most people missed.

Lisbon as in the middle of asking a question of the sheriff when Jane, without preamble, shouted "The butler did it!" And gestured wildly to the man who was standing quietly and out of the way in a corner of the room.

"What?" Lisbon asked, clearly annoyed.

"I beg your pardon!" The butler protested, clearly offended.

"Nah, I'm just kidding. I just always wanted to say that." Jane said with a chuckle.

"Jane..." Lisbon began, clearly working up to a rather public reprimand.

"But in all seriousness, the murderer is clearly this young mans lover. He brought him here to break things off and it did not go well. I would look into who he was seeing, not officially, but on the side, and you shall have your killer." And then Jane walked out of the room.

"Is he always like that?" The sheriff asked Lisbon quietly.

"Yeah. But you get used to it." And then, as though Jane's outburst had never happened, she continued the question that Jane had interrupted.


	7. Black Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Mentalist Revers Bang drabble tag prompt "black cat". Just a fun little piece calling to mind shades of early season 2.

Cho stood on the sidewalk in front of the victims sister's house, staring at the front door. He knew it was irrational, that's what everyone kept telling him at any rate, but he just couldn't help it. School yard tales of ghosts and bogie men mingled with his grandmothers' warning on witches and the devil and he just couldn't do it. He took a deep breath and a step forward and stopped.

He was being watched.

He couldn't do this. Much as Jane was often reminding himself that there was no such thing as psychics, Cho ran a mantra through his head. _There is no such thing as bad luck. There are no evil omens. You can do this._

"Dude." Rigbsy said, coming up behind him and almost making him jump. "It's just a cat. It's not going to hurt you."

And then, ignoring all things in the world that said that black cats were bad luck he bounded up the front walk and scratched the cat on the front steps on the top of it's head.

Cho just shook his head, Rigsby was an idiot anyway, what did he know.

"You talk to the sister." He called from the safety of the sidewalk. "I'll wait in the car."

Rigsby looked back of his shoulder. "Yeah, whatever."

Without waiting to see him go in the house, Cho turned and walked back to the car.


	8. Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the June 2013 Paint It Red Challenge. Episode tag to Red Sky in the Morning (season 2 finale).

He had been so close to Red John. He had felt his breath on his face. He could have touched him had he not been strapped to a chair. And yet he had nothing. No new evidence. No new leads. Nothing. A raspy voice and a fragment of a poem about the beauty of a monster. And he was unsure if that monster was him, or the killer speaking. They were both deadly in their own ways. And he knew that this would only end one way. He knew that nothing was going to "fix" the problems other than him.


	9. I'm Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this for the reverse big bang, then realized that the eventual conclusion wasn't going to be happy as the artist had requested, so I changed it to a drabble and here we are.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, as the gun went off in her hand and his world came crashing down around him.

He'd never really understood what people meant by the world moving in slow motion around them, but right at that moment he did. He'd not expected her to be there. He'd not expected her to shoot. This was supposed to be about him.

His plan.

His revenge.

The man beside him fell to the floor, three spots of bright red blossoming on his chest. The woman across from him lowered the gun. And he went running never looking back.


	10. WIthout You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 5th drabble tag on the Mentalist Big Bang community in anticipation of the most recent Big Bang! Go sign up, it'll be a blast. The prompt "the world would be a sadder place without you"

I watch the woman in the hospital bed and feel my heart breaking. This was not how any of us thought it was going to end. Jane stood next to me, tears in his eyes, but just as powerless as I was to stop the suffering of the woman we all loved and cared for. We weren’t allowed in her room. The ICU only let one person at a time visit, and blood family took precedence over work family. Watching through the window as one after another her brothers cried over her I wanted to reach out and stop their pain and suffering, but I didn’t know how. Ghosts walked the hallways, haunting my dreams, as the days passed and she didn’t get any better. This was not how we had wanted thing to go. This is not how I wanted them to end.


	11. Excalibur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Mentalist Big Bang Drabble tag prompt "Excalibur"

The sword shivered in his hand, almost as though it were alive. He slowly lifted it, testing its weight. The air vibrated, this was the moment. He swung the sword quickly, slicing through the air. He twirled and danced, swinging the sword in front and behind, switching hands back and forth before making one last quick cut and posing with his best war face on.

"Are you done now?"

"What?" He hadn't realized he had an audience.

"We're here to interview the clerk, not play with the toys."

"Oh, um, yeah. Coming." He put the sword back on the shelf.


	12. Picture Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the December Paint It Red Challenge "Picture Perfect"

The framed picture taunted her. Made her wish she was somewhere else, with someone else. Her brother, his wife, his kids, the perfect family. Here she was, single, alone, no one, at least not that counted. The happy faces looked up at her, saying to her that she would never have what they had. And she hated it. Life wasn’t fair. But she had chosen this path. She had placed her feet firmly upon it and she would stick with it. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to dream of her own family and children not to be.


	13. Wash Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for miss_peg for the 2013 Paint it Red stocking exchange. Um, not sure what prompt I used. I woke up this morning and realized that I had typed this up before I went to bed and I think the rain outside was the real inspiration. But non the less, it is for her. Merry Christmas, or Happy Holidays, or whatever.

She watched the water fall from the sky and wondered. Rain was cleansing, rain was purifying. Washing away sins and regrets. As they stood there, looking at each other, she wondered if it could work magic. He’d been away so long. They hadn’t been the same. They never would. But that could be a good thing. She took a step towards him, noticed how the rain had plastered his shirt to his chest and wondered at the sight. He was real. And he was here. He had come back. He took a step towards her. Rain could wash away pain.


	14. Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A post ep drabble of sorts to the season 1 episode "Flame Red" where Jane and Lisbon run in the rain. Written for the Fan Flashworks LJ, prompt "weather"

It looked like rain. It had all day really. As they stood on the porch and watched the sky open up, she smiled. It was a good day. The rain was needed in the country and Lisbon was holding on to the small glimmer of hope that Jane was not going to seek revenge over Red John. They smiled at each other as they ran into the rain, laughing slightly as they hopped over puddles. First in the car she hesitated slightly before unlocking the doors. She watched Jane try to catch a raindrop in his tongue laughing in joy.


	15. Hurts Too Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Paint it Red Quick Tag, Prompt "Hurts too Good"

She watches him as he leaves with Fisher, again. It hurts, to know that she came back for him but that now he’s spending all of his time with someone else. It sounds petty, even to her ears but she can’t help it. She watches the people around her moving around, moving through life. Two years she was waiting in limbo, and then he came back. And she was still waiting. Still waiting for him to come to her, waiting for more. It hurt, the pain was very real. Very much there and a part of her. To the end.


	16. Fools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the April 2014 Paint it Red Challenge, prompt "Fools"

Fools. Thinking that I could be done in by the likes of him. Thinking that I was stupid enough to let him see me, get near me, let alone be killed. I am invincible. I am powerful and all might. The puny pathetic Patrick Jane will not do me in. They are all pawns in my game. Just when they think it is safe, I will strike again. I will never leave. I will always hunt him. I will always be there, lurking in the shadows, watching, biding my time. And when they think they are safe, I will strike.


	17. He Will Never Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post 6.22 "Blue Bird", no explicit spoilers. Written for the Paint it Red June 2014 challenge "the time you have lost"

He watches her when she sleeps. He watches her at work, out of the corner of his eye. He steals kisses and gently caresses her cheek, whispers sweet nothings in her ear. Making up for lost time, for all the moments they could have shared, should have shared. It's been too long, it was almost too late, and he's determined never to waste another moment with her again. He Watches her as she's questioning a suspect, like he's done a thousand times before, doesn't stop looking. He smiles, loves her with his eyes. And he will never stop loving her.


	18. Ridiculous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Found this drabble as I was cleaning up my desktop. It's from Pike's perspective about the final scene from "Black Hearts" (I think that's the one) where Pike proposes to Lisbon after she says she'll come with him to DC.

It was ridiculous, really. That he was doing this here, that he even thought of proposing to her in the middle of her place of work. But he'd done it on purpose. He'd done it for the man sitting on the couch, very obviously NOT listening to what was being said. Very obviously NOT watching as he kissed the woman he hopped would be his wife. He was staking a claim. He was making it obvious to the other man that he had won. That she had picked him, that she was moving across the country for him this time.


End file.
